You Were Born Knowing How to Receive
And then spent €3,000 learning it again at a retreat where someone named Moonflower touched your sacrum
Your first act on this planet was receiving. You emerged from a body, latched onto a nipple, and sucked like you were being paid per milliliter. No one gave you an online course. No one sent you a Kajabi link. No one scheduled a discovery call to discuss your “abundance blocks.” You just... received. Like a mammal. Because you were one. Still are, actually, despite what your LinkedIn bio suggests.
Your body remembers receiving the way your tongue remembers salt. Not as technique. As origin. As the first language your cells ever spoke, before words, before wounds, before anyone satisfying.
And now? Now you’re sitting in a circle somewhere in Portugal, eyes closed, breathing through your yoni, trying to “open yourself to receiving” while a woman in harem pants explains that your root chakra is “stagnant” and that’ll be €200 plus a juice cleanse, thank you.
The cosmic joke is so on-the-nose it’s basically assault: you came pre-installed with a receiving function. Factory settings. Default mode. It was literally your survival strategy for the first years of your life. And now you’re watching YouTube videos titled “How to Let Love In” like you’re troubleshooting a printer.
Your blood still knows how to say yes. Your skin still knows how to open. The architecture never left your body. It just went underground, into the dark wet earth of your nervous system, waiting for you to stop outsourcing your own remembering.
Here’s what happened: somewhere between your first heartbreak and your forty-seventh Instagram infographic about “divine feminine energy,” your system decided that receiving was a setup. A trap. The thing that happens right before everything goes horribly wrong. So it closed the gates. And now you’re standing outside your own fortress, knocking, wondering why abundance isn’t answering.
Plot twist: abundance is inside. It’s been inside the whole time. Eating your snacks. Watching your Netflix. Waiting for you to find your own damn keys.
Let’s talk about the people who turned receiving dysfunction into a personality trait.
You know them. You might BE them. The ones who say “Oh, I’m SUCH a giver” with that little humble laugh, like they just admitted to being too generous with dessert portions, not like they just confessed to a profound nervous system collapse they’ve rebranded as virtue.
“I give and give and give. I’m terrible at receiving, haha!”
Babe. Sweetheart. Darling. Being unable to receive is not a personality type. It’s not your love language. It’s not your human design. It’s a wound in a trench coat pretending to be a character trait. It’s trauma with a PR team.
Your cells don’t care about your reputation for selflessness. Your bones are not tracking your generosity metrics. Your mitochondria don’t give a single fuck about how much you sacrificed for others. They just know they’re hungry. They just know something that should be flowing in... isn’t.
You want to know who’s REALLY good at giving and catastrophically bad at receiving? People who learned before age seven that their needs made them unlovable. People who discovered that wanting things got them abandoned, rejected, or worse... ignored. People whose nervous systems did the math early: “If I become the one who GIVES, maybe I’ll finally be safe. Maybe I’ll finally be enough. Maybe someone will finally stay.”
And it worked. Kind of. Enough to survive childhood. Not enough to actually live a full adult life without slowly starving in a room full of food and calling it “being low-maintenance.”
Your inability to receive is not generosity. It’s a very old terror wearing a socially acceptable dress. And your tissue has been waiting, patiently, for decades, for you to finally see through the costume.
So how did you go from world-class receiver to someone who deflects compliments like they’re personally offensive?
“You look beautiful today.” “Oh this? It’s old. I found it in a dumpster. I actually look terrible. But thank you I guess?”
Four mechanisms. Happening slowly. Quietly. Like a toxic relationship that starts with “he’s just intense” and ends with you googling “am I in a cult.”
Mechanism One: Overwhelm.
Your nervous system got more input than it could process, so it started closing receptors like a club promoter who just noticed the fire marshal walking in. Not because you’re weak. Because your biology chose survival over hospitality.
Think about it: seventeen browser tabs, four unread emotional texts, two work fires, one passive-aggressive email from your mother, and someone asks “do you want to grab dinner?” and your whole being screams NO even though you literally need to eat food to live.
That’s overwhelm. Your system cannot take in one more thing. Even good things. ESPECIALLY good things. Good things require processing power you currently don’t have because it’s all being used to silently panic about that thing you said in 2019.
Your body didn’t betray you. It made a triage decision in the dark, underwater, while alarms were sounding. It said: “I love this human too much to let her fry. Closing all non-essential ports.” And it’s been waiting, loyally, for you to signal that the emergency is over.
(Spoiler: the emergency ended. You forgot to send the memo. Your nervous system is still in 2017. Someone should tell it.)
Mechanism Two: Unfulfilled Longing.
Every desire that didn’t complete its cycle became a knot. Every want that got ignored, dismissed, or devastated turned into a micro-contraction in your tissue. And contraction is the biological opposite of receiving. You cannot be clenched and open simultaneously. That’s not mindset. That’s physics.
There’s a place in your body, right now, that’s still holding the shape of a “no” you received so long ago you forgot it was a wound. That place tightens every time you try to want something new. It whispers: “Remember what happened last time you let yourself need like this?”
You made a vow. Probably age seven. Maybe seventeen. Possibly last November after that situationship ended via Instagram story. You decided: “I will never want like THAT again. Never be that embarrassingly hungry. Never let myself need something so badly that its absence could destroy me.”
Congratulations. You protected yourself from disappointment. Side effect: you also protected yourself from fulfillment. The contract was unclear about that part. You should probably fire your inner lawyer.
(Your nervous system has been honoring that vow like it’s a blood oath with a medieval king. Meanwhile you’re wondering why nothing good “sticks.” It’s not that good things don’t come. It’s that your system is returning them at the door like “sorry, we didn’t order this. must be the wrong address.”)
Mechanism Three: Marinating in Someone Else’s Frequency.
When you spend too long in other people’s realities, desires, emergencies, your receptors start tuning to THEIR channel. You become an antenna for their signal. And slowly, cell by cell, you forget what your own frequency even sounded like.
Your body is loyal to whatever you soak it in. It will tune to the frequency you marinate in longest. This isn’t weakness. This is biology. Your cells don’t know the difference between “my desire” and “the desire I’ve been swimming in for six years.” They just calibrate. Automatically. Without asking.
This is why you leave certain people’s houses feeling like you need a shower, a nap, a lobotomy, and possibly a priest. You weren’t just “drained.” You were literally running their operating system instead of yours. Your nervous system got confused about whose life it was living.
That “intuition” you’ve been following? Might want to check the shipping label. Could be your mother’s anxiety that you absorbed before you could speak and never returned to sender. Could be your ex’s scarcity programming still running in the background. Could be collective trauma masquerading as your personal preference.
(Your body is not a bad antenna. It’s an EXCELLENT antenna. That’s the problem. It picks up everything. Including the channels you didn’t subscribe to.)
Mechanism Four: The Big One.
Trauma. The place where your system learned that opening equals obliteration.
Every time you opened and got hit, your body logged it in the permanent record. Not in your mind, where you could argue with it. In your TISSUE. In your fascia. In the deep animal memory that doesn’t negotiate.
“Opening equals pain. Vulnerability equals target. Receiving equals setup.”
Data collected. Conclusion reached. Case closed.
Your nervous system didn’t become a fortress because it’s broken. It watched you get devastated when you were soft. It witnessed the annihilation that followed your openness. And it made a decision born of desperate, misguided, heartbreaking love: “I will never let her be unprotected like that again.” That’s not dysfunction. That’s a bodyguard who doesn’t know the war ended twelve years ago.
So now someone tries to give you something beautiful and your whole system activates like there’s an intruder. Not because the gift is dangerous. Because RECEIVING is dangerous, according to the data collected when you were too young to know that one terrible experience isn’t a universal law.
(Your body is not your enemy. It’s a traumatized security guard who needs a vacation, a software update, a good cry, and possibly a psych evaluation. But we’re going to start with the software update.)
The return to receptivity is not “just relax babe.” That advice is given exclusively by people whose nervous systems were never truly contracted. People who did one yoga class and now think they understand trauma.
“Just let it in!” “Open your heart!” “Allow the abundance!”
Ma’am, my heart is behind seven firewalls and a retinal scanner. “Allowing” is not the issue. The issue is that my system thinks receiving is a near-death experience and no amount of positive affirmations is going to override that until we address the HARDWARE.
The return happens in three layers. None of them are mental. Your mind cannot think its way into receptivity any more than it can think its way into digesting a meal. This is body work. Tissue work. The slow, patient convincing of an animal that’s been hurt.
Layer One: Proof.
Your nervous system needs EVIDENCE of safety. Not promises. Not journaling. Not vision boards. Actual somatic proof that opening doesn’t lead to annihilation.
One moment where something good enters and nothing terrible follows. One micro-experience where you let something in and your body observes, with its own sensory apparatus: “Huh. That didn’t kill us. That was actually... okay. Wait. Can we have more?”
Your body believes in data the way finance bros believe in spreadsheets. Religiously. Exclusively. You can affirm at it until your throat is raw. It will not update until you SHOW it. One true moment of receiving without catastrophe. That’s the reset.
This is why affirmations alone don’t work for receiving blocks. You’re trying to update iOS with a poem. Your mind says “I am open to abundance” and your vagus nerve goes “lol okay Karen, remember that time in 2016 though? I have screenshots.” (Your nervous system has receipts. It’s not impressed by your gratitude journal. It wants EVIDENCE. Reproducible results. Peer-reviewed safety.)
Layer Two: Melting.
The contractions have to dissolve. Every tight belly, locked jaw, held breath, shoulder near your ears, pelvic floor gripping for dear life. All of it must soften for receptors to come back online.
Contraction is your body’s way of saying: “Nothing in, nothing out, until further notice.” Full lockdown. Maximum security. And you cannot receive through a lockdown. You have to feel safe enough to release the grip. To let your tissue remember that softness is not the same as vulnerability, and vulnerability is not the same as death.
This is physical. Not conceptual. You can understand receiving intellectually and still be completely unable to receive because your psoas is clenched around a memory from third grade that your conscious mind doesn’t even have access to anymore. Your body stores what your mind forgets. And your body releases on its own timeline, not according to your spiritual ambitions. You don’t get to think your way into openness. You have to FEEL your way there. Through the tissue. Through the breath. Through the slow, unglamorous melting of everything you’ve been gripping. (Sorry. No shortcuts. Your fascia didn’t attend the webinar.)
Layer Three: Desire Returns.
Receptivity cannot exist without longing. Without magnetism. Without that holy ache that says “yes, I WANT.”
Desire is not the obstacle to receiving. Desire is the door. Without wanting, there’s nothing for the universe to deliver to. Longing is the shape you make that reality fills. It’s the cup. It’s the invitation. It’s the crack where light enters. Kill your wanting and you kill your capacity to receive anything at all.
This is why numbing doesn’t work. Sure, you stopped feeling the pain of wanting. You also closed the receiving slot. Turns out they were the same opening. Whoops.
Your desire is not too much. Your ache is not embarrassing. Your wanting is the exact frequency that magnetizes what’s yours. (The people who lecture you about “releasing attachment to outcome” often can’t manifest a parking spot. They released the desire along with the attachment and now there’s nothing for abundance to magnetize toward. They’re basically spiritual minimalists living in an empty apartment wondering why nothing arrives.)
Now. The diamond. The thing nobody tells you.
Being receptive doesn’t mean being permeable. Open doesn’t mean flooded. Soft doesn’t mean without discernment.
When you’re truly receptive, you’re still choosing. But the choice happens in your field, not your mind. Your skin softens but doesn’t vanish. Your heart opens but stays intelligent. Your body becomes a golden funnel, not a sponge. Everything pours toward you and your inner geometry naturally filters: this one enters, this one doesn’t. Not with walls. With resonance.
Three filters. Working faster than thought:
Filter One: Skin.
Your oldest technology. Pure neuroception. Before your brain forms a single opinion, your skin already knows. Safety or threat. Yes or no. Approach or avoid.
When your skin says yes, your whole system softens toward. Like a plant leaning into light. When your skin says no, you can override it with logic, but your body will invoice you later. Usually in the form of anxiety you can’t explain, a “bad feeling” you dismissed, or a situation you walked into knowing something was off but your mind said “don’t be paranoid.”
Trust the skin. The skin was doing threat assessment before language existed. The skin has been in this job for millions of years. The skin is not being dramatic. The skin KNOWS. (That “weird vibe” you couldn’t articulate? Your skin articulated it perfectly. You just weren’t listening because someone told you intuition isn’t “logical.”)
Filter Two: Heart.
Forty thousand neurons. Independent processing. Your heart reads coherence and dissonance before your mind makes a list.
When something truly belongs, your chest softens forward. Millimeters. Imperceptible to outside observers. But your heart just voted yes. When something’s wrong for you, there’s a micro-pulling back around the sternum. A tiny “no” in the tissue. Your heart just voted. Learn to count the votes.
This isn’t Hallmark. This is cardiac neuroscience. Your heart knew before your brain finished its pros and cons analysis. Your heart always knows first. It’s just quieter than your anxiety, so it gets outvoted.
Filter Three: Field Compass.
The difference between what’s actually yours and what just wants something FROM you.
Your signal feels like soft pressure toward. Like leaning into warmth. Like being invited. Someone else’s signal feels like being pulled, grabbed, hunted. Like something NEEDS you rather than MEETS you. Learn this difference in your belly and you’ll never confuse desperation for desire, manipulation for magnetism, hunger for love.
True signals approach. False signals chase.
Your actual abundance doesn’t have a sales pitch. It doesn’t need to convince you. It just stands there, resonant, waiting for you to recognize it. (If something is frantically trying to persuade you that you need it, you probably don’t. Real alignment doesn’t require a marketing campaign.)
The final truth.
You don’t receive THINGS from the universe. You receive the IDENTITY capable of having those things. And then reality arranges itself around who you’ve become.
Source doesn’t hand you a relationship. It hands you the nervous system capable of holding intimacy without collapse. The relationship appears because you became someone who could actually let it in. The Field doesn’t deposit money in your account. It delivers the frequency where abundance is a natural consequence. Wealth arrives because you stopped returning it at the door.
This is why “manifesting” feels like pushing a boulder uphill when your receiving is offline. You’re trying to attract things into a system that’s actively rejecting delivery. It’s like ordering packages to an address that’s been marked “return to sender” since 2009.
The work isn’t convincing the universe to give you more. The work is becoming able to receive what’s already trying to arrive. The Field has been delivering. You’ve been refusing the packages. Not because you’re ungrateful. Because your system genuinely believed receiving would destroy you.
It won’t. It was just poorly timed before.
Your timing is different now. Your body is ready. Not as bowl, but as instrument. Not as sponge, but as antenna. Not as passive recipient of whatever falls, but as sovereign selector of what resonates. You came in knowing this. Before language. Before wounds. Before anyone taught you that needing was weakness and wanting was dangerous.
Your body still knows. Your blood still remembers. Your skin is still fluent in the original language of yes. The only question left is whether you’ll trust what you knew before anyone taught you to doubt it.
You will. You already are. That’s why you’re still reading. 🔥✨💎
Your body has been waiting for permission. Here’s the simplest way to give it.
The Receiving Breath: How to Melt a Gripping Point in Seven Cycles
(Or: The Practice Your Nervous System Has Been Waiting For Since That Thing Happened)
You know that spot in your body that’s been clenched since approximately 2007? The one that tightens when someone offers you a compliment, loosens for nobody, and has its own subscription to catastrophic thinking? Yeah. We’re going there. With breath. And intention. And the kind of tenderness your tissue forgot existed.
This practice dissolves the grip not by force, but by invitation. Your breath becomes a warm hand on a locked door. Not pushing. Just resting there. Until the door remembers it can open. Here’s the thing: you cannot think your way out of a body contraction. You cannot affirm your way past a grip that predates language. Your fascia doesn’t speak English. It speaks sensation, rhythm, safety, slowness. So that’s what we’re offering it.
Seven cycles. That’s it. If seven feels like climbing Everest today, do three. Tomorrow, five. The day after, seven. Your body learns receiving capacity the same way it learns love: gradually, with proof, without force.
Your cells are not in a hurry. Your healing doesn’t have a deadline. The grip took years to form. It can take seven breaths to begin dissolving.
The Practice
Find the grip first. You know where it is. That place that tightens when good things approach. Throat. Chest. Solar plexus. Belly. Pelvis. Jaw. It’s been holding so long it thinks tension is its job. We’re about to gently retire it.
Put your attention there like you’d put a warm palm on a child’s back. Not fixing. Not demanding. Just: I’m here. I see you. We’re going to breathe together now.
ONE CYCLE:
INHALE (count to 4, through nose)
Breathe in through your skin, not just your nostrils. Imagine your whole surface drinking air. Soft light sliding toward the grip point. Not attacking it. Approaching it. Like a lover who knows you’re skittish and isn’t going to make sudden moves.
Count slowly: 1... 2... 3... 4...
Your skin is porous. Your edges are soft. You are not a fortress. You are a membrane that gets to choose.
HOLD (2 seconds) In the suspension, whisper internally: “I allow this to touch me.”
Not dramatic. Not performative. Just a tiny permission slip, signed in the dark, delivered to the place that forgot receiving was an option.
The silence hums. Your grip is listening. Maybe for the first time in years.
EXHALE (count to 6, through mouth) Haaaaaah...
Not theatrical. Not forced. Like you’re melting an ice cube that’s been lodged behind your sternum since someone disappointed you profoundly. Let the sound vibrate directly into the grip point. (Your exhale is not trying to fix anything. It’s just warm. Warm fixes things by existing.)
The grip doesn’t need to understand what’s happening. It just needs to feel that nothing bad is happening. That’s the whole teaching.
SILENCE (2 seconds) Don’t chase anything. Don’t evaluate. Don’t check if it “worked.”
Just let the energy settle like sediment in still water. Like dust after something finally stopped moving.
You are not forcing openness. You are demonstrating safety. Your body will open when it believes you.
Repeat 7 times.
First round, guide yourself with words. After that, let your body lead. It knows. It’s been waiting to remember. (If your brain starts commentating like a nervous sports announcer, that’s fine. Just keep breathing. Your breath is smarter than your commentary.)
The Golden Seal
On your final exhale, whisper internally: “I receive without asking, because I am enough to receive.”
Then feel. Don’t think. Feel. Where did your body become warm? Where did it soften? Where did something shift from stone to honey? That’s your new receiving zone. Mark it. Remember it. Return here.
Your tissue just learned something no workshop could teach it: that opening doesn’t require perfection. Just presence. Just breath. Just the willingness to let something land without bracing for impact.
Seven breaths. That’s all it took to begin. (Your nervous system is currently updating. Please do not restart your human.)
Part Two: The Precision Protocols
(Paid subscribers continue below. Free readers, this was your foundation; there’s more when you’re ready.)
Six targeted practices for the six places where receiving blocks don’t just limit you... they run your entire life:
🟡 Money: breathing golden current through the places that learned abundance was for other people
💠 Touch: restoring your skin from armor to antenna
🌕 Recognition: for everyone who deflects compliments like they’re incoming missiles
👁️ Love Through Eyes: unlocking the portals you’ve been using as emergency exits
🔥 Sexual Energy: holding fire without reaching for the extinguisher
🌬️ The Receiving Breath: the full seven-cycle protocol for dissolving whatever grip is running your body today
Your nervous system just learned it can open. These practices teach it exactly where.



It is amazing how insidious and how restricting to the Soul not truly allowing oneself to receive is. Even with my flame, I have not been receiving freely and it has had repercussions. I thank Source/the Universe that we cannot remain separated for more than a couple of hours, even 3,000 miles apart physically, the connection is so strong and massive, but I believe letting go of the primal protection can help me to allow all the love he sends to enter, finally. Thank you Dev.❤️
This is great Dea! ✨️